Two Short SPN Fics
These two, fluffy little quickies were written for the spn_bigpretzel Summer Fun!!! Comment Fic Meme going on right now.
The first one is from a prompt by purplecarpets :They're suffering through a horrible, evil heatwave, the A/C is dead, Dean's leg is in a cast all the way up to his knee (he might have a couple of broken-off pencils stuck in there, too) and seriously Sammy, stop hiding the remote control and for the love of God, no, please don't read stories to Dean, especially not if you found them on your summer reading list.
The Stupid Summer
Sammy is stupid and this stupid summer is all his fault.
Dean growls at the stupid air conditioner as his stupid little brother bangs on it for the tenth time, but that only causes it to sputter and gasp its final, dying breath before a tiny, mushroom cloud of black smoke puffs out from the top of the unit.
“Good going, genius.” Dean sighs as he reaches for a pencil, and no, he isn’t interested in writing a note to tell Sam how stupid he is - he might do that later. No … for now he needs something that can reach the stupid itch inside his stupid cast that’s up to his stupid knee.
And he wouldn’t be in this stupid cast if Dean hadn’t been stupid enough to give into Sammy’s stupid, puppy dog eyes when he saw that stupid kitten caught in that stupid tree and asks him to save it. And when his stupid ass fell, he should have grabbed on to a branch or something because now his leg is broken and it’s the start of summer vacation - a vacation that Dad had promised he could join in on a few hunts, but now and he has to sit in this stupid apartment and watch his stupid brother beat on the dead air conditioner instead.
And to make things even more stupid, it’s about a billion degrees in there and Dean’s sweat is making his stupid itch only more irritated.
SNAP
Oh wonderful … the stupid pencil broke and now it’s stuck inside his stupid cast.
Could things get any worse?
“I think the TV’s broken.” Sam says and now he’s beating on the stupid television set, as if he didn’t learn his lesson with the air conditioner. Now all that comes in is static and Dean is just about at the end of his stupid rope.
Yes … things can get worse.
“Just turn it off, moron.” Dean grumbles. Now he’s hot and bored and the only things he can watch are the other kids in the apartment complex swimming in the stupid pool just outside their window.
This is so unfair …
“Wanna play a game?” Sam asks, holding out a stupid pack of cards.
“No … I wanted to watch the stupid TV.” Dean glares and at least Sammy has the common sense to look away and put the cards back on the table.
Sam flops down on the couch while Dean tries to pull the broken piece of pencil from his cast and swears up a storm of curses when he can’t reach it.
“Can I help you?” Sam asks.
“No.”
“I could -“
“You could what? Magically fix my leg?” Dean snaps.
Sam looks down at his hands, properly ashamed, “I was just gonna say that I could help you get that out - I got smaller fingers.”
Sam looks up at Dean, his eyes filled with apology and damn if that stupid look on his little brother’s face doesn’t make him feel like a complete ass hat. Sam has spent the last three days doing nothing but apologizing to Dean and trying to take care of him by bringing him food, drinks, his crutches and whatever else Dean needs while all Dean has done in return is snap at him and call him stupid.
And he knows that Sam is beating himself up for Dean’s accident, even though it was really Dean’s fault for losing his balance in that tree - Sammy had only wanted to help that little kitten and if Dean hadn’t been with him at the time, he probably would have climbed that tree on his own and tried to rescue it himself.
And what if Sammy had been the one to fall and hurt himself?
Dean’s kinda glad that he’s the one with the broken leg and not Sam … even if it does suck out loud. And really, Sam’s summer is just about a ruined as Dean’s since he’s been acting like he had to wait on him hand and foot in order to make up for wanting to save that stupid kitten.
“Alright … give it a try, but it’s wedged in there pretty good.”
Sam grins a little and gets to work, sticking his thin finger between the inside of the plaster and Dean’s leg. He roots around for a bit, but finally manages to pull the pencil stub out. Dean sighs in relief - that stupid thing was really starting to bug him and he’s grateful to his little brother for making him a little more comfortable.
“Thanks.” He says then looks up Sam and feels like a jerk for snapping at him before because now he’s got that remorseful expression on his face that just about kills Dean with regret, “And I’m sorry, Sammy. You know I’m just hot and bored and this isn’t really how I wanted to spend my summer vacation, right?”
“I know ... I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to ruin your summer.”
Dean throws his head back and sighs while Sam mopes away and grabs a book, flinging himself into the recliner and burying his face behind long bangs as he reads, but Dean knows he’s really just trying to keep himself from crying and feels like an even bigger asshole.
“Hey … what ya reading?” He asks because he can’t think of anything better to say to keep his little brother from feeling any worse than he already does.
“The Hobbit.” Sam mumbles.
“S’it any good?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s it about?”
“A hobbit.”
“What’s a hobbit?”
“Short, little guy with hairy feet.”
“What’s he do?”
“I dunno … I just started this - it’s on my summer reading list.”
Dean looks up at the ceiling as silence descends on the room. Sweat rolls down his face and he can almost hear his heart beating it’s so quiet - and man does he hate the quiet.
Suddenly, he’s uttering words that he’s never thought he would ever say, “Why don’t you read it to me?”
“What?” Sam looks up, startled and genuinely confused.
“Ya know … Read it out loud? TV’s broken and I’m about to go out of my mind with boredom, so … “
Sam perks up, “Really?”
“Yeah … why not? S’not like there’s anything else to do.”
Sam flashes Dean the first genuine grin he’s seen on his face since he fell from the tree and he practically hops back over to the couch and sits beside him, flipping the pages of the book back to the beginning and starting with the first sentence:
“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort …”
A few weeks later, after Sam had read through The Hobbit, followed by the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy, Dean would recall this summer as being not so stupid after all.
The end
This second one is from lolaann1 's prompt: Some illegal fireworks,Bobby's salvage yard, two bored kids. What could possibly go wrong?
Won’t See ‘em Again Till the 4th of July
Bobby’s used to waking up at odd hours.
It’s usually either hunters calling whenever they need info on some creature RIGHT THE HELL NOW or a certain, scruffy father dropping off his boys when he needs to take on a hunt too dangerous to take them along on.
But, he isn’t used waking to the sudden, loud, and thunderous sounds of explosions coming from outside his window and he’s practically jumping out of bed, certain that World War three has somehow broken out on his property.
He races to the room where he put Sam and Dean to bed nearly two hours ago, but when he opens the door, both beds are empty.
Another loud bang shakes the foundation of the house and he runs down the stairs, heart hammering in his chest as he throws open the back door. He stops mid-stride, frozen in his tracks as a bright burst of light fills his vision with stars followed by another earth-shaking boom.
Silence comes over the salvage yard for a few seconds and Bobby hears two voices coming from the far end of the yard.
“Dean!!!! Did you see that one - that was the best one yet. Can we do one more?”
“No - that last one was too loud - Bobby’s gonna skin us alive.”
“You said he’d sleep through it - that he wouldn’t be able to hear ‘em over the sound of his snoring.”
“I was kidding, moron - anyone with ears heard that last one. We are sooo dead.”
“You got that right!” Bobby growls from behind the boys’ backs, they both turn simultaneously with shell-shocked expressions written on their faces. “What the HELL do you think you are doing?”
Sam drops his head while Dean shifts uncomfortably, both of them silent
“Well … answer me!”
“Uh …” Dean starts eloquently, “We uh … I mean … I uh … found some old fireworks in the shed …”
“Fireworks? … I don’t have any … oh -“ Bobby gulps, remembering now the old box of fireworks he bought years he bought years and years ago. They were intended to be used as a surprise for Karen the day they got married - his cousin Joe was supposed to set them off during the reception, but it had rained that day and they’d never been used. Instead they had spent the better part of twenty years on a shelf in the shed, long forgotten. He’s actually impressed that they still worked.
Sam mumbles, scuffing the ground with his feet. “S’my fault … I asked Dean to light ‘em - I just hadn’t seen fireworks before. We’re really sorry.”
“You sure will be … what would I tell your dad if you two blew your fingers off with these things? Huh?” Both kids looked up at him with big, frightened eyes and such doleful expressions that Bobby almost forgets that he’s mad at them and he feels himself caving in to their terrible cuteness … but that last for about half a second and he comes to his senses - there’s no way in hell he’s letting them get out of this mess scott-free - not when they could have hurt themselves.
“Tell you boys what -- since you like messing around in that old shed of mine so much, how about you two can clean out all the crap that’s in there and scrub it down until it sparkles, and after that I’ve got another list of chores about as long as my arm that need doin’. Maybe if you both get ‘em all done before your daddy gets back I won’t have to tell ‘im what you two have been up to, got it?”
“Yessir.” Both boys reply, hanging their heads in shame, but hopefully after an afternoon spent in that hot, stuffy shed cleaning out all of those cobwebs, and cleaning every nook and cranny of the house the boys will learn that it’s never a good idea to wake an old man up from his bed by nearly setting fire to his lawn.
“Good … now go back to the house and get your butts in bed -- you’re both gonna have an early morning wake-up call tomorrow, so you better get some rest while you can.”
Sam and Dean take off running for the house at a sprint while Bobby turns to the box of fireworks sitting beside him, picks it up, and looks inside, shaking his head. It’s mostly just bottle rockets and fire crackers, nothing too dangerous, but still - he feels more than a little responsible - he is after all, supposed to be keeping watch on the boys and making sure they don’t blow themselves up is part of the job.
So yeah … Bobby’s not gonna breathe a word of this to John - not ever.
The End
The first one is from a prompt by purplecarpets :They're suffering through a horrible, evil heatwave, the A/C is dead, Dean's leg is in a cast all the way up to his knee (he might have a couple of broken-off pencils stuck in there, too) and seriously Sammy, stop hiding the remote control and for the love of God, no, please don't read stories to Dean, especially not if you found them on your summer reading list.
The Stupid Summer
Sammy is stupid and this stupid summer is all his fault.
Dean growls at the stupid air conditioner as his stupid little brother bangs on it for the tenth time, but that only causes it to sputter and gasp its final, dying breath before a tiny, mushroom cloud of black smoke puffs out from the top of the unit.
“Good going, genius.” Dean sighs as he reaches for a pencil, and no, he isn’t interested in writing a note to tell Sam how stupid he is - he might do that later. No … for now he needs something that can reach the stupid itch inside his stupid cast that’s up to his stupid knee.
And he wouldn’t be in this stupid cast if Dean hadn’t been stupid enough to give into Sammy’s stupid, puppy dog eyes when he saw that stupid kitten caught in that stupid tree and asks him to save it. And when his stupid ass fell, he should have grabbed on to a branch or something because now his leg is broken and it’s the start of summer vacation - a vacation that Dad had promised he could join in on a few hunts, but now and he has to sit in this stupid apartment and watch his stupid brother beat on the dead air conditioner instead.
And to make things even more stupid, it’s about a billion degrees in there and Dean’s sweat is making his stupid itch only more irritated.
SNAP
Oh wonderful … the stupid pencil broke and now it’s stuck inside his stupid cast.
Could things get any worse?
“I think the TV’s broken.” Sam says and now he’s beating on the stupid television set, as if he didn’t learn his lesson with the air conditioner. Now all that comes in is static and Dean is just about at the end of his stupid rope.
Yes … things can get worse.
“Just turn it off, moron.” Dean grumbles. Now he’s hot and bored and the only things he can watch are the other kids in the apartment complex swimming in the stupid pool just outside their window.
This is so unfair …
“Wanna play a game?” Sam asks, holding out a stupid pack of cards.
“No … I wanted to watch the stupid TV.” Dean glares and at least Sammy has the common sense to look away and put the cards back on the table.
Sam flops down on the couch while Dean tries to pull the broken piece of pencil from his cast and swears up a storm of curses when he can’t reach it.
“Can I help you?” Sam asks.
“No.”
“I could -“
“You could what? Magically fix my leg?” Dean snaps.
Sam looks down at his hands, properly ashamed, “I was just gonna say that I could help you get that out - I got smaller fingers.”
Sam looks up at Dean, his eyes filled with apology and damn if that stupid look on his little brother’s face doesn’t make him feel like a complete ass hat. Sam has spent the last three days doing nothing but apologizing to Dean and trying to take care of him by bringing him food, drinks, his crutches and whatever else Dean needs while all Dean has done in return is snap at him and call him stupid.
And he knows that Sam is beating himself up for Dean’s accident, even though it was really Dean’s fault for losing his balance in that tree - Sammy had only wanted to help that little kitten and if Dean hadn’t been with him at the time, he probably would have climbed that tree on his own and tried to rescue it himself.
And what if Sammy had been the one to fall and hurt himself?
Dean’s kinda glad that he’s the one with the broken leg and not Sam … even if it does suck out loud. And really, Sam’s summer is just about a ruined as Dean’s since he’s been acting like he had to wait on him hand and foot in order to make up for wanting to save that stupid kitten.
“Alright … give it a try, but it’s wedged in there pretty good.”
Sam grins a little and gets to work, sticking his thin finger between the inside of the plaster and Dean’s leg. He roots around for a bit, but finally manages to pull the pencil stub out. Dean sighs in relief - that stupid thing was really starting to bug him and he’s grateful to his little brother for making him a little more comfortable.
“Thanks.” He says then looks up Sam and feels like a jerk for snapping at him before because now he’s got that remorseful expression on his face that just about kills Dean with regret, “And I’m sorry, Sammy. You know I’m just hot and bored and this isn’t really how I wanted to spend my summer vacation, right?”
“I know ... I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to ruin your summer.”
Dean throws his head back and sighs while Sam mopes away and grabs a book, flinging himself into the recliner and burying his face behind long bangs as he reads, but Dean knows he’s really just trying to keep himself from crying and feels like an even bigger asshole.
“Hey … what ya reading?” He asks because he can’t think of anything better to say to keep his little brother from feeling any worse than he already does.
“The Hobbit.” Sam mumbles.
“S’it any good?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s it about?”
“A hobbit.”
“What’s a hobbit?”
“Short, little guy with hairy feet.”
“What’s he do?”
“I dunno … I just started this - it’s on my summer reading list.”
Dean looks up at the ceiling as silence descends on the room. Sweat rolls down his face and he can almost hear his heart beating it’s so quiet - and man does he hate the quiet.
Suddenly, he’s uttering words that he’s never thought he would ever say, “Why don’t you read it to me?”
“What?” Sam looks up, startled and genuinely confused.
“Ya know … Read it out loud? TV’s broken and I’m about to go out of my mind with boredom, so … “
Sam perks up, “Really?”
“Yeah … why not? S’not like there’s anything else to do.”
Sam flashes Dean the first genuine grin he’s seen on his face since he fell from the tree and he practically hops back over to the couch and sits beside him, flipping the pages of the book back to the beginning and starting with the first sentence:
“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort …”
A few weeks later, after Sam had read through The Hobbit, followed by the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy, Dean would recall this summer as being not so stupid after all.
The end
This second one is from lolaann1 's prompt: Some illegal fireworks,Bobby's salvage yard, two bored kids. What could possibly go wrong?
Won’t See ‘em Again Till the 4th of July
Bobby’s used to waking up at odd hours.
It’s usually either hunters calling whenever they need info on some creature RIGHT THE HELL NOW or a certain, scruffy father dropping off his boys when he needs to take on a hunt too dangerous to take them along on.
But, he isn’t used waking to the sudden, loud, and thunderous sounds of explosions coming from outside his window and he’s practically jumping out of bed, certain that World War three has somehow broken out on his property.
He races to the room where he put Sam and Dean to bed nearly two hours ago, but when he opens the door, both beds are empty.
Another loud bang shakes the foundation of the house and he runs down the stairs, heart hammering in his chest as he throws open the back door. He stops mid-stride, frozen in his tracks as a bright burst of light fills his vision with stars followed by another earth-shaking boom.
Silence comes over the salvage yard for a few seconds and Bobby hears two voices coming from the far end of the yard.
“Dean!!!! Did you see that one - that was the best one yet. Can we do one more?”
“No - that last one was too loud - Bobby’s gonna skin us alive.”
“You said he’d sleep through it - that he wouldn’t be able to hear ‘em over the sound of his snoring.”
“I was kidding, moron - anyone with ears heard that last one. We are sooo dead.”
“You got that right!” Bobby growls from behind the boys’ backs, they both turn simultaneously with shell-shocked expressions written on their faces. “What the HELL do you think you are doing?”
Sam drops his head while Dean shifts uncomfortably, both of them silent
“Well … answer me!”
“Uh …” Dean starts eloquently, “We uh … I mean … I uh … found some old fireworks in the shed …”
“Fireworks? … I don’t have any … oh -“ Bobby gulps, remembering now the old box of fireworks he bought years he bought years and years ago. They were intended to be used as a surprise for Karen the day they got married - his cousin Joe was supposed to set them off during the reception, but it had rained that day and they’d never been used. Instead they had spent the better part of twenty years on a shelf in the shed, long forgotten. He’s actually impressed that they still worked.
Sam mumbles, scuffing the ground with his feet. “S’my fault … I asked Dean to light ‘em - I just hadn’t seen fireworks before. We’re really sorry.”
“You sure will be … what would I tell your dad if you two blew your fingers off with these things? Huh?” Both kids looked up at him with big, frightened eyes and such doleful expressions that Bobby almost forgets that he’s mad at them and he feels himself caving in to their terrible cuteness … but that last for about half a second and he comes to his senses - there’s no way in hell he’s letting them get out of this mess scott-free - not when they could have hurt themselves.
“Tell you boys what -- since you like messing around in that old shed of mine so much, how about you two can clean out all the crap that’s in there and scrub it down until it sparkles, and after that I’ve got another list of chores about as long as my arm that need doin’. Maybe if you both get ‘em all done before your daddy gets back I won’t have to tell ‘im what you two have been up to, got it?”
“Yessir.” Both boys reply, hanging their heads in shame, but hopefully after an afternoon spent in that hot, stuffy shed cleaning out all of those cobwebs, and cleaning every nook and cranny of the house the boys will learn that it’s never a good idea to wake an old man up from his bed by nearly setting fire to his lawn.
“Good … now go back to the house and get your butts in bed -- you’re both gonna have an early morning wake-up call tomorrow, so you better get some rest while you can.”
Sam and Dean take off running for the house at a sprint while Bobby turns to the box of fireworks sitting beside him, picks it up, and looks inside, shaking his head. It’s mostly just bottle rockets and fire crackers, nothing too dangerous, but still - he feels more than a little responsible - he is after all, supposed to be keeping watch on the boys and making sure they don’t blow themselves up is part of the job.
So yeah … Bobby’s not gonna breathe a word of this to John - not ever.
The End